


Have No Regrets

by Brumeier



Series: Gay Paree, 1920s [7]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Dancing and Singing, Established Relationship, Friendship, M/M, Paris (City), Partying, Poetry, Post-World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25365319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: A rainy night in Paris is the perfect time for John and Rodney to host a little party for their friends.
Relationships: Evan Lorne/Parrish, Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Series: Gay Paree, 1920s [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816114
Comments: 10
Kudos: 34





	Have No Regrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SherlockianSyndromes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockianSyndromes/gifts).



Outside, the rain was coming down in fine but steady sheets, the pools of water on the sidewalk gleaming under the streetlamps. It was damp, but not cold, and people hurried along their way shielded by brightly colored umbrellas.

In apartment 1B, above the Atlantis Café, the atmosphere was warm and well-lit with both electric lamps and candles. Wine flowed as freely as the conversation, and for once Rodney was able to be distracted from his notebooks full of equations and scientific ponderings.

In fact, he’d been persuaded to play the old upright piano, some popular tunes instead of the classical stuff Rodney usually preferred.

_Every morning, every evening_  
_Ain’t we got fun?_  
_Not much money, oh, but honey_  
_Ain’t we got fun?_

Evan and his new friend David, who was on holiday, were attempting a foxtrot to hilarious effect. Whatever other talents Evan may have had – he was an exceptional artist, amongst other things – he had two left feet.

“Allow me to cut in,” Teyla said. She was dressed casually in men’s trousers and vest, the ensemble somehow enhancing her femininity instead of masking it.

She swept in and took over for Evan, and she was a much better dancer despite the cramped confines of the room.

_The rent’s unpaid, dear_  
_We haven’t a car_  
_But in any way, dear_  
_We’ll stay as we are_

John sat on the edge of the piano bench, back to the piano, watching Teyla and David laugh as they glided gracefully together. Evan had dropped down on the sofa, wine glass in hand, and was talking to Ronon, their resident poet and mountain masquerading as a man.

“Dance with me, Johnny,” Laura said.

She’d initially joined the group as one of Teyla’s friends, a cabaret performer of some renown. She wore a burgundy-colored silk shift dress gleaming with rhinestones, her long red hair in a high bun, looking ready for a far more upscale party.

“No, I don’t –”

Laura ignored his protests and pulled him to his feet. Rodney switched up to a waltz, which he knew John was best at dancing.

“Hands above the waist,” Rodney snapped over his shoulder. John wondered who he was addressing that to.

While Rodney banged out the Cuckoo Waltz, Laura and John, and Teyla and David, danced around each other.

“Smooth moves, for a lollygagger,” Laura teased.

“I was a regular at country club dances, once upon a time,” John said. “I picked up the basics.”

“And broke a lot of hearts, I bet.”

John huffed out a laugh. “Not as many as you.”

“Okay. That’s enough of that,” Rodney said. “Lorne! Quit flapping your gums and take over.”

He cut in on Laura, who consoled herself by plopping down in Ronon’s lap and stealing his cigar.

Evan didn’t play as well as Rodney, but he got by. He launched into an Al Jolson tune, the campy kind of song Rodney usually couldn’t stand, and everyone started singing along. Well, almost everyone.

_Though April showers may come your way_  
_They bring us flowers that bloom in May_  
_So if it’s raining have no regrets_  
_Because it isn’t raining rain you know, it’s raining violets_

“Popular tripe,” Rodney grumbled.

“Embrace the culture, McKay,” John murmured in Rodney’s ear.

They danced close, and John pressed a kiss to the side of Rodney’s head. Teyla and Laura were dancing together, and then Teyla and Ronon while David sat at the piano with Evan. At one point, Ronon demonstrated a dance he’d learned on a trip to the Polynesian islands, surprisingly delicate and full of swaying hip motions.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing you try that,” Rodney said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. John laughed.

After the dancing, Ronon read them some of his new poetry. He had a nice, deep reading voice, pleasant to listen to. Teyla had said once that if Ronon recorded his poetry on record albums, she’d listen to them every day.

_pebbled and twisted_  
_puckered and ridged_

_cartography of war_

_reshaped and re-imagined_  
_rebuilt and repressed_

_visible bonds_  
_invisible gaps_

_they fade_

“That was lovely,” Teyla said. 

John nodded but found himself unable to speak for the moment. He didn’t get all of Ronon’s poetry, but that one hit very close to home. Evan, too, looked a bit strained around the mouth.

“Thanks,” Ronon replied.

He returned to the sofa and his cigar, and then Laura took a turn, telling an uproarious story about a very overweight man, a poodle, and a can-can dancer. The mood of the room lightened as they all laughed, each of them in turn telling what stories they had involving dogs or other animals.

They made a late supper of crêpes stuffed with eggs and cheese. Whatever Evan lacked in dancing ability, he more than made up for with cooking. The man could take any meager pantry offerings and turn them into a gourmet feast.

“You’re a magician,” David said appreciatively.

“It’s just a crêpe.”

Laura planted a kiss on Evan’s cheek, leaving a lip print behind. “Modest to a fault.”

Afterward, they lounged around discussing everything from art to philosophy to the latest gossip.

“I hear Josephine Baker is coming to Paris,” Laura confided. “I saw her in New York, at the Plantation Club. She’s amazing! We’ll all have to go together.”

Rodney snorted. “I’ve got better things to do than watch a half-naked woman flounce around on stage.”

“You watch me,” Laura pointed out.

“Yes, well, that’s different. You know.” 

Rodney made a vague hand gesture that John interpreted as meaning Laura was part of their group. John nudged him with his shoulder, grinning. He loved it when Rodney displayed his soft underbelly.

Another hour in and John was prone on the sofa, head in Rodney’s lap and feet in Teyla’s. David was stretched out on the floor, sound asleep, and Ronon was reading aloud from an old copy of _Tarzan of the Apes_ that had come with the rental along with the piano.

“’He wanted, very, very much, to feel his teeth sink into the neck of the queer animal that he had learned to hate and fear, and because of this, he came often with his tribe to reconnoiter, waiting for a time when the white ape should be off his guard,’” Ronon read.

“I couldn’t live in the wild,” Laura mused. She was sitting at Evan’s feet, letting him finger brush her hair and braid it over and over. “There’s a lot to be said for the joys of indoor plumbing.”

“You could work that into your act,” Rodney muttered sleepily, the fingers of one hand tangled up in John’s cowlicks. “Wear animal skins and swing from a vine.”

“I’d pay to see that,” Ronon said.

John fell asleep while Rodney and Laura discussed the logistics of fabricating a swinging vine on stage, and only woke again when Rodney was tugging him to his feet.

“We have a perfectly good bed,” Rodney said. “I’m not sleeping on the sofa.”

Evan and David were both sacked out on the floor, but the others had gone. John blinked blearily at the dirty dishes and empty glasses and decided they could sit where they were till morning.

The bedroom was through a set of glass doors, the panes covered over with heavy curtains for privacy. That room was John’s favorite place in the world, a tiny universe populated by only two people. In that room nothing could touch them. Not the past, not the condemnation of the unenlightened, not their own fears and failures.

John left the windows open, the rain a soft, rhythmic patter on the roof above. There was something magical about Paris: the bistros, the wrought iron doorways that were so intricately formed, the majesty of Notre Dame, cups of thick, rich hot cocoa. Or maybe it was all of those things shared with friends. Shared with Rodney.

“Come to bed, John,” Rodney said, snapping John out of his reverie.

John stripped down to his skin, carefully folding his clothes and leaving them on the chair in the corner. He slid into bed and curled up next to Rodney, pulling the blankets over them both.

“It was a good party,” he said. He yawned widely.

“Mmm hmm,” Rodney agreed.

He was already half asleep, John could tell. Regardless of the late hour, Rodney would be up early, his mind running at double speed. He’d go to the Sorbonne and muck around in their science department, or to the Musée des Arts et Métiers to stalk the science exhibits.

“’If it’s raining, have no regrets’,” John whispered sleepily against Rodney’s shoulder. “’Because it isn’t raining rain you know, it’s raining violets.’”

“Idiot,” Rodney mumbled back. He rolled over and slung his arm over John’s hip. “Dors bien, mon amour.”

“Je t’aime.” John pressed a kiss to Rodney’s forehead.

The rain, and the heat from Rodney’s body, quickly lulled John to sleep, grateful for a day well spent.

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** I continue to be smitten with this 1920s ‘verse. So, John and Rodney threw a party for their friends. Very low key. I did do a spot of research, but I don’t claim a high level of accuracy here. Also, I wrote Ronon’s poem. I am not a poet. I think that’s pretty clear. ::grins::
> 
> This is gifted to my dear friend SherlockianSyndromes, who helped kick off this 'verse. See what you did?? LOL!
> 
> **Song List**
> 
> [Ain’t We Got Fun](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VdYqCkPrVOg)   
>  [Cuckoo Waltz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tYcTzJ4Wizs)   
>  [April Showers](https://youtu.be/VX9PzUbP5tU)


End file.
